In which Shawn and Gus are in a dire situation
by Gala000085
Summary: Shawn really should have listened to Gus when he told him this was a bad idea. Really just an excuse for some Shawn and Gus banter as well as some shameless Shawn whump. NO SLASH
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! I'm back with my second Psych story. Thanks so much for your response to my previous one! This story will probably be a two parter, so I hope you enjoy the first part.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Psych or its characters.

* * *

Leaning back in the chair opposite Chief Vick's desk, Shawn sighed dramatically as he brought a hand up in classic psychic pose. He screwed his eyes shut and started moving his free hand through the air with rapid, jerky movements. He stopped abruptly when he felt Gus's knuckles punch him hard (a little harder than necessary, he might add) on the shoulder. He whined pathetically before snapping his eyes open.

"These robbers, bandits, delinquents," another shove to the shoulder stopped his rambling, "they are inexperienced. They started off with a much too elaborate heist and believe they got away with it, but no! Someone messed up. Someone left evidence behind that will lead us right to them."

"Well, what is it, Mr Spencer?" Chief Vick requested clearly trying her best not to snap at the young man before her, though Head Detective Carlton Lassiter was failing miserably in his attempt to not look annoyed. Of course, there was the rather distinct possibility that he was not trying to hide his frustration at all, though he did just about manage to stay quiet.

"I will find it," Shawn said with the utmost seriousness to his voice.

"So, in other words, you've got nothing," Lassiter scorned, no longer able to contain himself.

"The spirits are muddled, talking all at once, but with a little more time I am absolutely certain that I will decipher their cryptic message."

"One day, Mr Spencer, one day; that is all I'm giving you," the Chief answered, ignoring the huff that escaped her Head Detective.

"You have my word," Shawn said as he slid from his chair, pointedly not making clear on what exactly that _word_ was.

He smirked at Gus as he accepted the file the Chief handed him before the two made their way out of her office, Shawn waving avidly at Lassiter as they passed him. Gus sniggered slightly at that.

"So, what have you actually got?" Gus asked as they walked out of the police station.

"I don't know," Shawn replied nonchalantly as he walked round the little blue car.

"Why are you going round the driver's side, Shawn?" Gus was sounding horribly suspicious and Shawn did his very best to look completely unperturbed.

"Well, I would have thought it would have been perfectly obvious, my friend," Shawn said as he put his hands on the roof of the car. "I'm driving."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"It's a company car, Shawn!"

"Who are you, Goldie Hawn?"

"What?" Gus actually had the decency to look puzzled for a moment, causing a slow smirk to rise on Shawn's face.

"You know, that movie with Mel Gibson where they're driving around on that really cool motorcycle."

"Oh," Gus said as realization dawned on his face and the confused look from before was replaced with a certain smugness, "_Bird on a Wire_."

"Yes! See, you do know what I'm talking about," Shawn exclaimed happily, but Gus had obviously seen through his plan because the smug look was once again gone from his face.

"I'm not a woman, Shawn," Gus said nonchalantly.

"Well, clearly you can't be Mel Gibson."

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Does that mean I'm driving?"

Shawn eyed Gus hopefully, but with one look from his best friend he found himself jogging around to the passenger side. Shotgun was cooler anyway.

* * *

"Today would be good, Shawn," Gus said as he looked at his watch again.

"Would you relax? I didn't know we were on schedule," Shawn countered as he continued eyeing the crime scene before him. It was strange. Some parts of the scene practically screamed inexperience, where others were sitting calmly in the front row seats and politely telling him that they showed great experience. It was infuriating.

"Yes, you did know that. The Chief only gave us today to solve the case _and_ it's your dad's birthday today."

"We're not celebrating my dad's birthday until tonight, which means we have the rest of the day to enjoy ourselves," Shawn said as he leant down over the smashed jewellery cases.

"And this is your idea of enjoying yourself?" Gus asked as he walked over to stand next to Shawn, clearly trying not to appear intrigued at his friend's sudden silence.

"Obviously we're enjoying ourselves, don't be ridiculous," Shawn answered but he did not look up as he said it, instead opting to continue eyeing the jewellery case. "Huh, that's interesting."

"What's interesting?" Gus said immediately, dropping all pretence of not being interested.

"If you were an experienced robber, would you leave behind bits of jewellery that are worth just as much as the pieces that were stolen?"

"No, that would just not be right to pick and choose like that," Gus said while looking at Shawn expectantly.

"I think our dear friends, the robbers, were disturbed in their heist which resulted in the murder of the night guard," Shawn said, pointing over his shoulder to the spot on the floor where the body had previously been, now only a brownish a spot remained to show its previous location. Gus promptly looked away.

"Didn't they know there was a night guard on duty?" Gus asked as he looked back at Shawn.

"Gus, what would I do without you," Shawn said, sounding so sincere that Gus almost took it as a compliment. Almost. "Wouldn't experienced robbers know to check for night guard?"

"This is great and all, but how does this get us any closer to finding the stolen jewellery?"

Shawn smirked. As much as Gus often said that Psych was primarily his _second_ job, he knew his friend enjoyed this. That eager tone in his voice was a dead giveaway.

"They were probably thrown off by the sudden murder charge, and considering we are going with the fact that they are inexperienced, I don't think they are too far away."

"They are not here, right?" Gus said suddenly looking around nervously.

"Yes, Gus, of course they are," Shawn said sarcastically, "they are hiding in the drawers over by that desk, just waiting to jump out at you and say boo."

"That's not funny, Shawn."

"I thought it was," Shawn mumbled as he moved towards the exit of the jewellery store.

"Now, where are you going?" Gus asked as he caught up with him.

"I'm going to find the stolen goods and the vandals responsible," Shawn said matter-of-factly, as though this was the most obvious thing the world.

"Really?" Shawn nodded. "And how exactly are you planning to do that?"

"You underestimate me, my dear friend," Shawn said as he turned away from the car and walked down the street.

"Where are you going? There car's over here," Gus called after him, but when Shawn merely turned and looked at him with that smirk plastered on his face, Gus jogged after him. "So, why are we going this way?"

"Gus, I don't know how many times I'm going to have to say this," Shawn said, quietly rejoicing at the annoyed look his friend sent him, "the robbers probably freaked after they shot the night guard meaning they wanted a quick getaway. I mean, come on, why else leave some of the jewellery behind? No, they wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible."

"Oh, that explains why we're walking down the street. Thank you, Shawn," Gus said sarcastically, keeping his eyes purposely looking ahead.

"But, it doesn't explain why we're walking down the street," Shawn answered looking slightly confused, "I didn't get to that part yet."

"Okay, Shawn, please continue," Gus said as calmly as he could muster under the circumstances. Shawn lived for these moments.

"Thank you, Burton – OW!" Shawn cried out when Gus whacked him round the head.

"That's for calling me Burton," Gus replied calmly and, might Shawn add, rather smugly.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Gus glared at him and Shawn sidestepped slightly in case another slap was heading his way, "there were no skid marks from a wheel spin, either out front or in the back. Now, you tell, wouldn't there have been wheel spin if they had tried to get away quickly?"

"That's what you are basing your theory on? Wheel spin? That will be a great talk with the Chief; 'Hi, Chief, we have not found the jewellery or the robbers but on the plus side there was no wheel spin'."

Shawn glanced at Gus and noticed that the annoyance and frustration he heard in his friend's voice was only partly true because Gus had just found himself incredibly amusing.

"Hilarious," Shawn said tonelessly, partly just to annoy Gus. "I had something much better in mind."

"Yeah, like what?" Gus questioned as he looked at his friend.

"Like bringing them the jewellery and the robbers," Shawn paused. "Should we call them murderers since they actually killed somebody?"

"Yeah, that's probably right," Gus agreed after he had mulled the thought over for a few seconds.

"How about robburderer?" Shawn suggested.

"Yeah, that would work too," Gus said nodding his head.

"Robburderers," Shawn repeated in serious tone.

"Shawn?"

"Hm?"

"How are you going to find the robburderers?" Gus asked as he stopped walking to look at his friend.

"Easy," Shawn said enthusiastically, "Their little hideout will be close by, because if they were on foot and they ran it would not be too far away because then they would have been caught by the police when they arrived at the scene."

"Great, let's go around and knock on all the doors in the neighbourhood and ask if they are the robburderers."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gus, that would be a total waste of time," Gus glared at him. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Anyway, it's that one."

Gus looked at the house Shawn was pointing at over his shoulder. It looked no different from any of the other houses along the street.

"Why that one?" Gus questioned and he immediately got worried when Shawn's face split into an enthusiastic grin.

"Don't believe me? Let's go ask them," before Gus could stop him Shawn was bounding towards the door, Gus hot at his heels, but before he could stop him Shawn rang the doorbell.

"Shawn! I just asked how you knew!" Gus hissed as Shawn lifted his hand to knock when he didn't get an immediate response from the doorbell.

"Look at the other houses, Gus, all of them have collected the newspaper that was thrown at their poor defenceless door way too early this morning, except for this one."

"First it's wheel spin and then it's newspapers! Shawn, do you have any idea what you're doing?" Gus snapped when Shawn rang the doorbell again.

"Dude, trust me on this, it's cool."

"No it's not, Shawn, if you're right you are knocking on the door of robburderers."

"I've got this," Shawn assured him but he had a vague suspicion that his friend was far from assured. "Besides, this must be the right house because they dropped a little diamond ring which was lying on the grass as we walked up here."

"Shawn!"

"What?"

"Why aren't we calling the police?" Gus exclaimed though his voice had now dropped down a few levels.

"Relax, my dear friend, it's all under control," Shawn said and Gus knew he was doomed. Shawn turned his full attention back to the door as he started banging his fist repeatedly against it while yelling, "Hello! Anybody home? HELLO!"

"Shawn, be quiet," Gus pleaded.

"But…they aren't answering," Shawn said as he rang the doorbell again.

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Yes, Gus, obviously it's a bad thing. Would I be knocking on their front door and ringing their doorbell if I _didn't_ want them to come out?"

"Yes."

"Fair point."

"Shawn? I think I hear someone," Gus whispered frantically.

"Finally," Shawn sighed.

"Let's get out of here," Gus urged and started to turn around before Shawn grabbed his wrist.

"Whoa, hang on. You're going now? Dude, we've been standing here like forever waiting for someone to answer the door and when they finally come you want to leave."

"Yes, I want to leave, Shawn, you want to know why?" Gus whispered quickly.

"Yes," Shawn answered innocently.

"Because I don't want to die, Shawn!"

"Gus, nobody is going to…Hello!" Shawn stopped mid-sentence to greet the man now staring down at them. He was only a little older than Shawn and Gus, but he was way, _way _taller. His hair was close cropped and made Shawn cringe slightly because surely that was hair torture – omitting his friend from that equation of course. It was obvious to Shawn that the man now standing before them was nervous. It seemed as if he had drawn the short straw in an argument on who was to open the door. Sweat had gathered on his brow and his hands were shaking ever so slightly.

"Can I help you?" The man asked almost so politely that Shawn doubted himself.

"Yes, I hope so. My name is Shawn Spencer; I'm the Head Psychic with the SBPD. This here is my partner, Chopstick Chortleton."

Gus glared at him and tried to elbow him in the ribs, so Shawn guessed he was both angry about the name calling and the fact that Shawn had said he was with the police. Really, wasn't that overreacting just a little bit?

"You guys with the police?" Shawn noticed that when the man before them posed the question his voice had just pitched slightly higher. He was definitely worried. Awesome.

"That is correct," Shawn said simply still keeping his face and voice completely serious.

"Why don't you come in?" The man requested to which Shawn immediately noticed Gus shaking his head vehemently.

"We would love to," Shawn answered quickly, "after you Chortleton."

Shawn did his best not to cry out in pain as Gus stamped on his foot as he walked past his friend into the house.

The fake psychic followed his friend into the house, taking a deep breath when he heard the man close the door behind them. He really hoped this was not a bad idea.

"What is this about?" The man asked while they were still in the hallway, which Shawn noticed was annoyingly bland.

"Well, you see Mr…?" Shawn started but as he had grown increasingly tired of calling the man, _The Man_, with capital letters in his head, he wanted a name.

"Wyatt, Wayne Wyatt."

_Wayne Wyatt. Seriously?_

"Well, Mr Wyatt," Shawn continued as if the name he had just heard had not just wanted him to either start laughing or make a joke at Mr Wyatt's expense, "there was a robbery in the jewellery store just down the road last night, and I got some very distinct psychic vibes that led me here."

"Really?" Wyatt said questionably and Shawn did not miss the shift in his tone. He was quite certain Gus did not miss it either because he looked about ready to run screaming from the house.

"Yes, it was quite disturbing the way the spirits guided me to this house. They were really quite persistent," Shawn added with a slight smirk.

"Why do you think that would be?" Wyatt asked and by now he was sounding eerily calm. Shawn was not too sure he liked the change. Maybe Gus had been right.

"Why do I think that is?" Shawn said with false incredulity as he glanced at Gus who was again shaking his head subtly. "The spirits say that you know something about the robbery."

By this point Gus looked about ready to either kill his friend or pass out. Shawn was not quite sure which was most likely, but neither was very tempting.

"Do they now?" Wyatt said and before Shawn knew it he was staring straight at the muzzle of a handgun. Okay, this was officially a bad idea. "Robby!"

In response to the yell a man emerged from another room. Shawn groaned. What was it with these big, muscular guys and travelling in packs?

"What the hell is going on here?" Robby exclaimed as he took in the scene before him.

"They're with the police. This here," at this Wyatt motioned towards Shawn, "is apparently Shawn Spencer, a psychic, and the other one is his sidekick, Chopstick Chortleton."

Okay, Shawn admitted the name was less funny now, but how Wyatt could honestly believe that was Gus's real name, Shawn had no idea.

"Yeah, so?" Robby answered and Shawn attempted to look completely innocent when the man looked at him.

"They know about the robbery," Wyatt hissed.

_Well_, Shawn thought, _now I know for sure_.

"Is that so?" Robby said, and Shawn decided that he did not like that calm tone at all.

"Wait! I see it now!" Shawn exclaimed dramatically.

"Don't do it, Shawn!" Gus warned and now Shawn was not quite sure who Gus would throttle first given the chance: the bad guys or Shawn.

"You had been eyeing that jewellery store for weeks," Shawn continued as he promptly ignored Gus's failing attempts at getting him to shut up, "you thought it would be a quick and easy job, there was no alarm system, but you had not counted on the night guard who was posted there instead of said alarm system. He interrupted you, and you were startled so you just fired the gun, and BAM, one dead night guard."

Gus looked positively murderous now. Then again, so did the other two men in the room. Maybe he should take bets on who wanted to kill him the most right now.

"I will kill you Shawn," Gus muttered.

Maybe Gus was worth putting the most money on.

"You really shouldn't have said all that," Robby said with that eerily calm, low voice.

"No, Shawn, you really shouldn't," Gus added for good measure.

"So, what –" Shawn started, but Wyatt interrupted him.

"If you so much as sneeze funny I'll put a bullet in you."

Shawn tried desperately to hold back the snort of laughter that threatened to escape, but only partly succeeded.

"What's so funny?" Wyatt questioned.

"Dude, it's 'if you so much as _breathe_ funny', not _sneeze_ funny; because, come on, let's face it, you can't _not_ sneeze funny."

"Shawn! Don't intimidate the bad guys!" Gus exclaimed drawing Shawn's attention to him.

"What, you are taking his side now? He started it."

"Shawn, don't you dare start that now."

"Start what now? I'm just stating one tiny little fact and you blow it out of proportion."

"I'm not blowing anything out of proportion, _Shawn_; I just want you to stop trying to get us killed."

"Would you two just shut up!" Robby yelled before Shawn had a chance to retaliate.

"But I was just pointing out that your friend, Wayne Wyatt here, got his threat all wrong," Shawn said innocently.

Before he knew it, the butt of Wyatt's handgun connected painfully with the side of his head, causing him to fall to an unconscious heap on the floor.

He should really have listened to Gus.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it! Please drop in a review to let me know if you want the second part of this story.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much for the response on the first part. I hope you enjoy this part too!

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

* * *

The first sensation he became aware of was that his head was pounding. It was like a march of angry little marshmallows that were all bounce around on the inside of his skull. He unsuccessfully held back a groan.

"Shawn?" That was Gus, he was quite sure of that. "Shawn, are you awake?"

Shawn's first reaction was to say, "no", but refrained from doing so because right now he was trying to simply open his eyes.

"Shawn!" Gus hissed again.

"Not so loud," Shawn mumbled as he slowly opened his eyes.

It appeared he and his friend was shut in a room of some kind that had most definitely seen better days. There was a table and chair in one end of the room, covered in a thick layer of dust, as well as the chair's legs being entwined in cobwebs, enlightened by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There were shelves lining another wall with too many items covered in dust for Shawn to even want to identify. The simple matter at the moment of turning his head around was enough; he didn't need to make the situation any harder for himself.

Gus had been sitting a few feet away from him, but upon noticing his friend was awake he scurried over to him.

"Shawn," he said rather frantically, "are you alright?"

Shawn mulled the question over for a moment.

"Yeah," he muttered finally.

"You're an idiot," Gus said as he helped Shawn sit more upright, though the movement caused the room to sway a little bit.

"Gus," Shawn whined as he brought a hand up to his head.

"Come on, you should sit up against the wall instead."

Shawn mumbled his agreement and with Gus's help, got shakily to his feet. This had been a really, _really_ bad idea. He groaned in relief when he felt the wall behind his back and he slid down to sit on the floor, closing his eyes momentarily.

"What happened?" Shawn asked when he opened his eyes again to look at Gus who had sat down next to him.

"You got pistol whipped," Gus said with a nod towards Shawn's head, "and then they took us to the basement and locked us in. I told you this was a bad idea."

"You did indeed," Shawn agreed because he couldn't honestly deny that Gus had been right. "Gus? You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Shawn, because _I_ didn't annoy the bad guys. I told you to stop intimidating him."

"I wasn't intimidating him, Gus; I was stating a simple fact."

"You were intimidating him, Shawn. That bruise on the side of your face is proof of that."

"I have a bruise on the side of my face?" That would explain Gus's nod towards his head earlier.

"Yes, you do, Shawn."

"Sweet," Shawn mumbled.

"What? This is not _sweet_, Shawn."

"Cool?"

"No, it's not _cool_ either."

"Dude, help me out here, you're shooting down everything I'm coming up with."

"It's _bad_, Shawn! We've been kidnapped! Nobody knows where we are! We are probably going to die –"

"Gus, don't be a dried out saltine. How do you know I don't have a plan?"

Gus took a deep breath at that.

"So, what's the plan?"

"Beside the point, Gus. That's not the main matter of this issue."

"How is that not the main matter of this issue, Shawn?" Gus hissed, clearly growing agitated. Shawn decided that maybe it would be a good idea to figure a way out of this mess.

"Do you have your phone?" Shawn asked.

"They took our cell phones," Gus said sullenly.

"Well, they _are_ robburderers."

"I will kill you, Shawn."

"Dude, that's like twice in one day," Shawn mumbled as he closed his eyes again.

"Yes, it's twice in one day, Shawn, because you keep getting us in these situations," Gus said quickly. Almost too quickly for Shawn to catch up.

"What happened?"

"You asked that already, Shawn," Gus said, and Shawn noted that he actually sounded worried.

What was it Gus had just said? He had already asked that…oh, yes, that's right he had. Silly him.

"I couldn't agree more," Gus mumbled. Had Shawn just said all that out loud? "Shawn, will you stop mumbling."

"I'm not mumbling."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Fine!"

"Good, I'm glad we got that sorted out."

"Shawn…"

"You want to kill me again, don't you?" Shawn asked as he turned his head to look at Gus. His friend's look said it all. Shawn sighed before continuing, "Look, Gus, I'm sorry I got us in this mess, I should have listened to you."

"Damn straight you should," Gus answered clearly satisfied now that Shawn had admitted that he had been wrong.

"What do we do now?" Shawn asked as he looked towards the door leading out of the basement.

"I already checked the door and even the walls. I don't think there is another way out of here," Gus said, a certain note of self-satisfaction creeping into his voice.

"Dude, you are really proud of yourself, aren't you?" Shawn said with a slow grin.

"You are in no position to insult me, Shawn," Gus said nonchalantly, "I had to carry your ass down here."

"Wait…_you_ carried me down here?" Shawn asked incredulously.

"How else did you think you got here?" Gus questioned.

"I don't know," Shawn mumbled as he pinched his eyes shot as another marshmallow took a massive bounce.

"You okay, Shawn?" Gus asked, not even bothering to attempt to hide his concern for his friend.

"Super," Shawn managed to get out through clenched teeth. Damn the bouncing marshmallows.

"Shawn," Gus said again. He sounded closer this time and Shawn actually yelped when he opened his eyes again to find Gus's face inches from his own.

"Gus! Stop invading my bubble."

"Stop trying to freak me out then." Gus returned though he still eyed Shawn with that worried look.

"I'm better now," Shawn said quietly, though he was unsure if it was to assure Gus or himself. Truthfully, yes, the marshmallows had decided to quiet down for the time being, which Shawn was eternally grateful for.

Shawn sniggered.

"Oh no, Shawn, no, you can't seriously find anything funny about this situation," Gus said seriously.

"Just thinking about marshmallows and green aliens," Shawn said with a grin.

"Marshmallows…?"

"And green aliens, yes."

"Shawn, you are insane."

Shawn could not really argue about that. He opted to take another look around the basement to see if, by any chance, Gus had missed something. Using the wall for support he pushed himself to his feet, batting Gus's hands away when he tried to help. He was pretty sure Gus was talking, but at the moment he did not even want to attempt to decipher it. What mattered at the moment was finding a way out of the trouble he had caused. Yes, he felt guilty. He was actually quite glad that at least he had been the one to get pistol whipped, not Gus, because that would just not have been fun for the guilt-o-meter.

He stumbled along the slightly before he got his feet more under himself. He blinked a few times to get the room to settle and once it did he only hoped that the marshmallows were not planning a comeback.

Sure enough the door leading out of the basement was locked. He figured as much considering Gus had already tried that. He rammed his shoulder into it once, but hissed loudly at the pain that erupted in his shoulder and decided not to do that again. It looked so simple in movies when they did that. Occasionally the real world sucked.

"I tried that already," Gus piped up from somewhere behind Shawn.

"You could never know if you had loosened it," Shawn replied as he crouched down to study the key hole. "Hey, have you got a screwdriver?"

"No, Shawn, I don't have a screwdriver, because, you know what, I don't carry screwdrivers around with me," Gus retaliated as calmly as he possibly could. It would do Shawn's head no good if he started yelling at him.

"We should seriously start carrying one with us; it might come in handy," Shawn said as he pushed the key hole with a finger.

"You are not E.T."

"Really? You know, I was sure at one point that I simply had to be from another planet."

"Is that so?"

Shawn grunted in affirmative as he once again pocked the lock. Gus considered starting Lamaze breathing.

"Do you think there is something in here that could be used to open this lock?" Shawn asked as he turned around to look at Gus while gesturing to the shelves aligning the walls.

"Now you're talking," Gus said with a grin, clearly hopeful for the first time that day that Shawn had some vague idea of what they were doing.

They both made their way over to the shelves, Shawn mover at a slightly slower pace than Gus. Shawn started from one end of the shelves and Gus from the other as they rooted through the various dust covered items. Shawn knew Gus had to be desperate to get out of their little prison because not once did his friend complain about the dust that happily settled on his clothes.

Shawn dug his hand into a box and started rummaging around, hoping that something would come up.

"You got anything?" Gus asked anxiously.

"Not yet," Shawn answered as he plunged his hand into another small box.

"Hey," Gus said, a hopeful tone colouring his voice, "would scissors work?"

"Gus, you're a genius!" Shawn exclaimed happily as he rushed (as fast as he could) to Gus's side, pleased to note the smug look that was plastered on his friend's face.

Gus handed Shawn the scissors and the two quickly made their way back to the door.

"Now what?" Gus asked when Shawn merely held the scissors and made no move to put them anywhere near the lock.

"Right," Shawn mumbled as he hastily shoved the scissors into the keyhole and started wriggling them about.

Nothing happened.

"Huh…" Shawn sighed as he crouched down in front of the door, glaring at in the hope that it would understand that he was growing increasingly annoyed with it.

"It didn't work," Gus stated and Shawn had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting, "try again."

Shawn obediently – those two words in the same sentence, really? – did as he was told and stuck the scissors back into the keyhole.

Same result.

"I'll go look for something else," Gus said as he turned around and hurried back to the shelves, "you keep working there."

Shawn merely nodded in agreement but stopped quickly when the marshmallows threatened their return. Once again he stuck the scissors back into the keyhole with a little more force this time and grimaced with the effort of trying to unlock the door. This was getting ridiculous.

"How're you doing over there?" Gus called from the shelves behind Shawn.

"Not very well," Shawn admitted as he tried pushing the scissors upwards in the lock in an attempt to loosen it.

"Keep trying," Gus encouraged and Shawn heard him pulling stuff down from the shelves.

It was now that Shawn realised that Gus had stopped sounding annoyed or angry with him and it actually scared him. Well, not scared him, obviously, but maybe worried him a little, tiny, miniscule bit.

"Gus, are you okay?" Shawn asked as he paused in his efforts to unlock the door.

"Yeah, Shawn, I told you," Gus replied offhandedly, "I'm fine, it's you I'm worried about."

Ah, that explained the change in his friend's behaviour.

Shawn stuck the scissors back into the lock.

And heard a click.

"Gus?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I got it," Shawn said, though his head hurt a little too much for him to force any excitement into his voice.

Gus practically ran over and almost fell over as he stopped abruptly next to Shawn. He stretched a hand out and turned the door handle. The door swung open with a slight creak.

"Great, Shawn," Gus whispered excitedly, "come on."

Gus peeked out of the door and up at the wooden stairs leading out of the basement. The stairwell looked disgustingly dark being shut between two walls and two doors.

Shawn pushed himself to his feet and followed Gus out of the door, keeping a tight hold on the scissors.

"Whoa, hold up," Shawn whispered when he heard a creak from the floorboards above them.

Gus stopped immediately and they both stood as frozen as they listened to the muffled voices above them. No words could be made out but by the sounds of it, it was still just Robby and Wyatt up there. Shawn seriously hoped there weren't any more of them.

"Let's go," Shawn urged on as quietly as he could, "stealth mode."

The two shared a knowing look before quietly moving forwards up the stairs, both being careful about potential creaky steps. Growing up trying to sneak out of the house did not come without its prizes.

By the time they reached the door on the landing Shawn's head was pounding from staying upright so long and attempting to listen avidly for the voices of their robburderers. He blinked rapidly a few times to clear the fog that had started to form in front of his vision, grateful that it actually worked.

"On three," Gus whispered as he looked back at Shawn.

"On three, what?" Shawn asked quietly.

"Now is not the time to play games, Shawn," Gus snapped.

"I know that, man, but I don't know what the plan is," Shawn whispered.

"The plan is to get out of this house."

"So you're just going to run out screaming like a little girl as soon as you go through that door? I'm sure that won't raise any suspicion," Shawn murmured sarcastically.

"I don't scream like a little girl, Shawn," Gus hissed at him.

Shawn was vaguely aware that this argument was getting ridiculous.

"Gus! Stealth mode," Shawn repeated from earlier, hoping to finally get them away from the staircase.

Gus glared at him but seemed to come to the conclusion that perhaps Shawn was right _this_ time. Definitely not at any other time of the day, but at this moment it did seem as if Shawn could possible be right.

"Okay, on three," Gus said again, though this time Shawn at least had a vague idea of what they were going to do once the door opened; but that still left one problem.

"Do we go on three, or just after three?" Shawn asked with a puzzled look at Gus. Gus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and for one horrifying moment Shawn thought he was going to start Lamaze breathing.

"Just go when I open the door," Gus said once he seemed to had resisted the urge to throttle Shawn. "Okay…one…two…three."

Gus eased the door open, and in a very impressive stealth-like manner peeked around the doorframe. Apparently satisfied he pushed the door open further and stepped out, Shawn following right behind him, the scissors clutched tightly in his hand. It seemed a rather pathetic weapon compared to the handguns of Robby and Wyatt but at least he had something.

Shawn held his breath as they both stepped away from the stairs leading to the basement and out into the hallway. He could still hear Robby and Wyatt talking in the other room, but even though his curiosity almost got the better of him he walked after Gus, _away _from the voices. After all, curiosity did kill the cat. Apparently.

Gus's movements sped up once the front door was in clear sight and Shawn cats one furtive glance over his shoulder. He really should have held an ear open for the voices of the robburderers.

For the second time in one day he felt something very hard collide with the side of his face, though this time it was not enough to knock him unconscious. It did, however, sent him keeling into the wall with a sharp cry of pain.

"Shawn!" He heard Gus's frantic yell and only one thought entered his mind.

"Get out, Gus!" Shawn shouted as he flung himself at Robby and Wyatt, not waiting to see if Gus heeded his words.

Did he mention that Gus had been right about entering the house being a bad idea?

He heard a sharp _slam_ and he only hoped that was the front door opening and Gus running out. Personally, he did not feel very good because at that exact moment Wyatt, whom he had apparently landed on, pushed him roughly to the side causing Shawn to momentarily see stars. What was it with these guys and whacking him round the head? Apparently that was a bad thought to have, because the follow-up treatment was Wyatt's boot connecting with his side, and, boy, did that hurt as well.

Shawn curled slightly in on himself at the same time as his mind screamed at him to _get up_. He tried to bring his feet under himself, the only result being a fist connecting with the side of his face. Okay, these people really needed to find a new hobby.

Shawn slammed back down on the floor but tried to protect himself with the scissors when both Robby and Wyatt moved closer, though as he had previously predicted, they proved rather useless.

He was quite sure that it was Robby's boot connecting with his head – _again_, he might like to add – that finally stopped his movements, because now the marshmallows were done bouncing and the elephants had marched into town.

"What do you want to do with him?" Shawn was pretty sure that was Wyatt talking, but his present condition left his judgement rather cloudy.

"I don't know! You said we were going to talk about what we were going to do with them after we got the jewellery to the hideout," Robby yelled and Shawn groaned as the voice sent spikes through his head. He was not quite sure that conscious was willing to keep fighting much longer and to be perfectly honest he was not going to stop the other side from winning if it meant this pain would go away.

The voices of the robburderers were fading in and out as Shawn no longer tried to pay attention, merely annoyed with the fact that his mind did not seem to want to relinquish its hold on consciousness.

SLAM

"SBPD, put down you weapons and step away from the body!"

_Did they have to be so loud_, Shawn thought as he groaned again, his mind finally giving up its battle.

* * *

Ouch.

This had to qualify for one of his major boo-boos.

Shawn felt the pounding in his head before he even began to wake up. He whimpered – no, he didn't _whimper_ – he _grunted_ in pain as he tried to open his eyes, immediately grateful for the dark room, though less grateful for the fact that he had no idea where he was.

He carefully, _very_ carefully, looked around the room, biting the inside of his cheek at the pain in his head the movement caused.

Hospital, that was for sure. He was going to be in so much trouble, that much he did know. Movement from his left suddenly caught his eye and he turned his head to see two figures slumped in chairs next to his bed. Yep, he was definitely in trouble, because there was Gus _and_ his dad, and considering the fact that neither of them turned up for his birthday, Shawn was quite sure he was not very popular with either of them.

Gus stirred slightly before yawning widely and stretching his arms up over his head. Shawn watched him lazily, too tired to even consider voicing newfound consciousness. He didn't need to though.

"Shawn," Gus cried out happily but quickly changed to a whisper when Shawn emitted a low groan, "you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Did Dad run me over with the truck?" Shawn said with a weak grin.

"You scared the heck out of me," Gus sighed as he leant back in his seat, keeping his voice low as he looked quickly at Henry.

"What happened, you know, after you got out?" Shawn asked, grateful for the fact that the pounding in his head that had erupted from Gus's cry of relief was slowly dulling down.

"The police was already at the jewellery store checking something out, so I got them to some with me pretty quick," Gus explained.

"Well, that was lucky," Shawn mumbled. "Dad's going to be pissed."

"He was actually pretty worried, you know, until he fell asleep," Gus said with a slight shrug.

"Dude, I…er…I'm sorry about dragging you into that house," Shawn admitting. Later he could always blame it one the headache and the drugs talking.

"Just promise me one thing," Gus said and continued when Shawn looked at him, "Listen to me next time, will you?"

"Sure thing, buddy."

"I was right, you know," Gus said and Shawn noted that previous smugness had returned.

"Yes," Shawn agreed, "you certainly were." He was quiet for a little bit as he contemplated what had just been said, before adding in a quiet voice, "My head hurts."

* * *

Let me know what you think. :-)


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